


Stuck

by Khimaira



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khimaira/pseuds/Khimaira
Summary: Peter finds Neal tied to his bed with the very cuffs that Neal stole that morning.
Relationships: Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	Stuck

The hair pin slips from between his toes and falls soundlessly to the floor. Neal swears, although the sound is mostly swallowed by the fabric of the makeshift gag. Such a terrible waste of a perfectly good tie. The metal of the cuffs digs into his wrists, so he relaxes back against the pillows. So much for picking the lock. He really should know better than letting a one-night-stand incapacitate him like this, but then horny Neal never has overlapped much with sensible Neal.

He hears footsteps approaching the door, and for a second, he thinks that she came to her senses and came back to let him loose. The illusion is broken with an urgent knock on the door that he’s awfully familiar with. Fuck.

“Neal, will you just open the damn door. I know you’re in there.” Peter sounds annoyed, but Neal is actually not sure what he did this time. Either way, this isn’t really the most dignified position to be found in.

Neal tries to make an innocuous sound that signals that he’s currently occupied but not in any imminent danger. Unfortunately, it’s must be pretty obvious that he’s been gagged, because Peter bursts through the door a second later, gun first.

He freezes when he catches sight of Neal, spread naked on his bed and securely attached to the bed frame with the very handcuffs that Neal stole that morning. Come to think of it, they may have been what Peter came for. He’s also painfully aware of the come that is starting to dry on his chest. Great.

Peter lowers the gun. “How do you even get yourself into these situations.” It’s not a question.

Neal shrugs best he can with his arms stretched above his head, and gives Peter his best “who, me?” look. It’s not very successful.

Peter is frozen in place, probably not sure what the appropriate reaction is in a situation like this. Hell, Neal isn’t sure about that either. He’s not even sure what kind of response he wants. On the one hand, this is terribly awkward. On the other, his traitorous dick is starting to swell. It’s only been a few minutes since he came, so it’s a great testament to his stamina, but the timing isn’t the best.

Peter’s eyes are inevitably drawn south, of course. What’s less obvious is why he hasn’t snapped out of it yet and thrown a blanket or something over Neal’s by now very obvious erection. With some effort, Neal manages to free himself from the gag.

“Peter, a little help please?” 

Peter does take a few steps towards him, but he’s still not doing anything remotely helpful.

“The keys should be on the table,” Neal says hopefully.

Peter’s head is tilted in a considering fashion, like when he’s testing out the different angles of a case, which is odd because Neal is pretty sure there is only one appropriate course of action here.

Except Peter sits down on the edge of the bed, close enough that Neal can feel the heat he radiates against his bare skin.

“Peter?”

“I came here to scold you, but it looks like you’ve already been dealt with.” Peter’s tone is calm, steady. Neal swallows. His skin hums with the sensation as Peter’s hand strokes over his stomach, awfully close to the drying mess of Neal’s come.

“Look, I was going to give them back, I didn’t even plan to use them.”

Peter examines his wrists where the metal of the cuffs meets tender skin. The position is starting to become uncomfortable, but there is barely any chafing, and Peter seems to reach the same conclusion.

“But you did use them. Now, do you think you’ve been punished enough to make up for both transgressions?”

Neal’s reply gets caught on his lips as Peter’s hand wraps around his hard cock. He’s not entirely sure what is happening, and if this is a fantasy he actually wants to realize, because things are bound to get awfully complicated–

“Fuck.”

Peter’s hand is warm, a little rough, and his grip is firm. If he shares Neal’s doubts, he’s hiding it awfully well. He jerks Neal a couple of times, thumbs at the drop of pre-come that wells out, then lets his hands pass over Neal’s immaculately shaved balls.

“Do you want this?”

Because of course Peter wants explicit consent.

“Yes,” Neal chokes out, before he has even fully processed the question.

Peter’s dry fingers pass over his hole, press down bluntly.

“There’s lube in the drawer.”

The fingers return cool and slippery, and it takes barely any effort for one to press all the way inside him. It’s been a while since he did this, especially with a man, but his body welcomes Peter without any hesitation. It’s like a learned response, like his entire being knows without a doubt that Peter is safe.

Even with the minimal resistance, Peter doesn’t try to add a second finger. Neal gives him a minute, then spreads his legs wider. “I can take more.”

Peter looks unbearably smug. “Oh, I have no doubts about that. But right now there is precious little you can do about it.”

Surely, Neal himself is never that irritating.

Eventually, Peter does give him a second finger, which feels fantastic, quickly followed by a third, which pushes the stretch over the edge into discomfort. Neal hisses between his teeth. Peter’s posture changes, and he presses down on his own crotch with his free hand. Well, well.

“You like making it hurt?” Neal pants, feeling the sweat start to bead on his brow.

Peter takes a second to consider this. “I like getting to be the one to push your limits, for a change.”

Neal supposes that’s fair.

He experimentally thrust back down on Peter’s fingers, trying out the girth. It’s not so bad now that he’s getting used to the stretch, but he has gained a new appreciation for the sheer size of Peter’s hands. Surely that must say something about his cock?

“If we’re doing this, I’m starting to feel that you’re a bit overdressed.”

“Cheeky. But not wrong.” Peter’s fingers pull out all the way, which is both disappointing and a bit of a relief. He wipes his hand on the very nice silk sheets that Neal changed that morning.

Neal has seen Peter in various degrees of undress before, but never naked and never with this kind of intent. He has a nice body, sturdy and toned, more practically oriented than Neal’s own near-compulsive vanity.

And his cock really is very big.

“Cuffs on or off?”

The question throws Neal a little. His shoulders are starting to hurt a little. But–

“On.”

Peter looks pleased with the answer. “On it is.”

As he crouches over Neal on the bed, Peter’s eyes meet Neal’s properly for the first time since he came through the door. Neal is usually pretty good at reading him, at knowing exactly what buttons to push. This feels different. This is uncharted territory for both of them. There is a warmth in Peter’s eyes that heats Neal up from the inside and makes something small curl up in his chest. There is frustration, curiosity, a greedy hunger that makes Neal spread his legs a little wider, until his muscles start to protest.

“Condoms?”

Neal doesn’t really want one, but he’s not stupid. He jerks his head towards the drawer, and Peter finds one and smoothly rolls it on.

It hurts a little when Peter enters him, like he knew it would, but it’s a mostly good kind of hurt. Neal can’t remember the last time he felt this full. Peter gives him a moment to get used to the stretch, forehead resting against Neal’s, breath mingling.

Peter fucks the way he does everything else, with precision and purpose and care. Competently. And, towards the end, really damn hard.

Neal comes all over himself for the second time that night.

Peter tosses the tied-up condom in the trash and frees Neal from the cuffs, gently massaging the skin. They lie side-by-side on the bed, close enough to touch but not cuddling. In a minute, they’re going to have to talk about this.

In a minute.


End file.
